Let me visit the past with its outdated themes;
My memoirs seem sweeter than cultural memes,
A thousand new interests can’t lure me away
From pleasanter thoughts of a missed yesterday.
My world is now different—such change as if I’m
Mistakenly, randomly, born out of time.
My words like my thoughts are as ancient as I—
I speak in a language of a time now gone by.
But worse still my passions occasion offense
When I share of myself and nothing makes sense,
When my soul moves in rhythm to when I was young
And it sings out a chorus that is no longer sung.
And sadly the family seems splintered apart
While small talk replaces the sharing of heart.
The wisdom embodied in passionate thought
In my world, as I know it, has now come to naught.
Enough! Oh my soul, for, your God is not dead!
Why step in the past when the road lies ahead?
Let me live in the present and what is to come,
For hope marches always to a far different drum!